


One Lie is Enough to Question All the Truths

by MiAmadaCorazon (ShyGirlHello)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Past Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, Really bad knowledge about chemical burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-10-27 21:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyGirlHello/pseuds/MiAmadaCorazon
Summary: Peter is a recent college graduate with a master’s in chemical engineering. He’s finishing up as a small time intern at some fancy institute when he meets Anthony Stark, the kind of cute man who comes into the library Peter works at, and his whole life is thrust into a whole new path.





	1. Maybe Love Isn't Real

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm trying out writing again. I haven't written in like three years so wish me luck! Anyways I hope you enjoy!

When Peter was younger, he prided himself on being a romantic. His first crush in the third grade was his partner in the lunch line and everyday he’d make her laugh and pretend she didn’t give him butterflies in his stomach. At age 17, he had his first girlfriend, MJ, and – god – he had loved her so much. 

He’d been with MJ for four years when they’d fallen into trouble. Usually, the mysteriousness and aloofness MJ exhibited had drawn in Peter and made him feel like he was always learning something new about her. It was refreshing and fun to find something else about what was behind the doors that MJ always held shut to her mind. Peter was infinitely comfortable in the newness of everything. Then, college had started getting harder. 

At first, it was the stress of trying to hold his jobs down while also doing his coursework. Peter would be swamped in work while MJ would go out and visit neighboring cities in her spare time. It frustrated him that he could never spend any time with his best friend. And then, there came the arguments. MJ would get upset and fight with him over how he shoved his nose into books and refused to budge to spend time with her. Peter would argue that he was trying to look out for his future. 

Then, the texts from ‘Ben from Philosophy’ started happening. MJ had told him it was just questions over the material in class and group projects. Peter had believed her, ‘cause why wouldn’t he? MJ was a good person through and through and Peter couldn’t find one flaw in her morality. 

“Peter, I hate to be the one to ruin your fantasy,” Ned had told him once over a Skype call. Ned had been his best friend since before they could speak complete sentences. After high school, they’d split up and it was one of the hardest things for Peter to do. The internet solved a lot of those problems though. “I think things are gonna end kinda badly, Pete.”

In retrospect, Peter wished he’d listened. He’d been away on a trip with his Spanish class to Costa Rica when he got the text from MJ. She’d explained to him that, while she loved Peter, it just wasn’t going to work between them. Life was getting in the way. That text had been sent halfway through Peter’s trip and needless to say, he doesn’t remember much about that trip. When he’d arrived home, all of MJ’s things had been moved out of their shared apartment and pictures that had been of her and Peter were dumped in the trash can.

Peter hadn’t thought about relationships like that ever again. He’d cried for months, unable to contact MJ or even get through phone calls with his Aunt May when she asked about her. Afterward, Peter stopped believing that he was cut out for relationships. He’d gone on many one-night stands and ran away from any type of commitment. He’d ghosted cute guys from his dorm and had to apartments to escape from one crazy girl who threatened to have him beat up if he didn’t ask her out again.

On the eve of his graduation, MJ had texted him again.

‘I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it, Peter. Look, I’m really sorry for the way things ended. Can we talk?’

That text had been sent months ago and now as Peter was checking in returned books to the library he worked at, Peter swore he could feel that message in his phone as if it were as living and breathing as he was. He’d never answered and told Ned as such, brushing off the scolding Ned gave him about running away from his problems. 

Love wasn’t a good thing for Peter and his future and, as far as Peter knew, no one could change that.


	2. A Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a bad day and to top it off, a library patron doesn't know how to read the atmosphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thursday means update time!

He’s running late. Quite literally. As Peter chained his bike to the company supplied bike rack, he could feel his nerves jittering all throughout his body. His teeth chattered and he fumbled for the hole to place the lock into. It clicked into place and no sooner than that, Peter made a mad dash for the front door. He never understood why it was almost twenty feet from the bike rack.

The front doors almost look like the front gates of heaven as he pulled out his I.D. card. The doors were down for maintenance the other day, so he didn’t have to worry about his card declining but, of course, the universe has it out for him and the card reader made a tiny beep and turns red. Peter cursed under his breath and tried again. 

Same result.

Again.

Same result.

Peter resisted the urge to stomp his foot like a disgruntled toddler and blew a breath out of his lips. Above him, a flock of pigeons fly onto the ledge that holds the giant letters that spell out ‘ChemEd’. Peter’s worked as an intern for the laboratory section of the building for almost two years now. He’d been a fan of the place since he was younger, sitting in his Aunt’s living room while watching TV and singing along to their jingle. Sometimes the jingle plays over the speakers in the elevator and Peter could admit that he once or twice hummed along to it. 

Now, it was a major corporation branching off from manufacturing safe chemicals for educational use to helping find the causes of vibranium’s high durability to aiding in advancements on cures in the medical field. To say he was proud to have a prestigious internship was maybe a bit understated to Peter, but who cares? He’s living his dream.

At the moment, however, Peter was thinking about going to his boss and trying to figure out if he’d be allowed to rewrite the software coding in the security system. It never failed. Every week, he’d show up ten minutes early to his shift and would continuously scan his card until the doors would finally unlock or some other employee would be gracious enough to hold the door open for him after they scanned in. 

Peter would give anything for a good-mannered employee to let him in, but instead, he tried to make a silent pleading with the security guard stood by the front desk to let him in. Give it to Peter to make unnecessary enemies and that enemy in question would be the security guard in charge of handling the entrance to his VERY important and punctual internship. Man, trip and accidentally spill water all over a security guard once, then suddenly he’s your mortal enemy, Peter thought as he went for the card reader again.

It beeped twice and turned green as he heard the click of the door unlocking. With a breath of relief, Peter reached to open the door. A pigeon, startled by the sound of the door opening, suddenly flew from its perch. But, not before releasing all of it bowel content straight onto Peter’s shoulder and down the right side of his chest. Peter stood frozen in the front door as he slowly moved his eyes over to the foul scene. 

“Nice day, isn’t it Mr. Parker?” The security guard raised his cup as if in toast with the gods about Peter’s misfortune. 

Peter shook his head and raced towards the bathroom. Not only was he in a rush, but now he smelt like he’d crawled into the laundry basket his neighbor, Pietro, left out beside his door every Tuesday evening. 

Washing himself off to his best ability yielded little results but it was better than hard bird shit staying caked on his sweater. Peter stalked his way through the hallways and to the elevator where the same damn jingle was playing above his head. Usually, Peter paid no mind to what was playing in the elevators while he was on his ride up. Yet, today – ugh, today – Peter was having a hard time being okay with anything. 

Stepping out of the elevator, Peter clenched his fists and steeled himself for his day ahead. He occupied himself through the rest of his shift with his observations and running errands for the chemists that were too busy to move from their labs to do.

He’d been refilling a coffee for a chemist who looked like he hadn’t slept in over 72 hours when the door to the kitchen opened. His boss, Mr. Jameson, stood looking at him with the stare that even the devil and his lackeys would run from. 

“Parker! Office. Now.”

Peter shrunk into his smelly sweater and did his walk of shame to Mr. Jameson’s office. With a quick shake of his limbs to settle himself, Peter sat in the uncomfortable office chair and braced for the berating he was going to get. 

A stack of papers fell into his lap with a dull thwap and Peter blinked in confusion.

“Do you know how long it takes for me to find out when someone screws with my company’s data, Parker?” Jameson said as he slid behind his desk and took a seat. 

“Very quick, sir,” Peter answered.

“Correct! So, why did you think you’d get away with this new equation on Dr. Lewis’s report?” 

Peter tried to remember which report Mr. Jameson was talking about. Switching through the papers he could find his markings for the errors that Dr Lewis had made on his first calculations and there, under a simple equation on particle acceleration, was Peter’s suggestion of an equation that would give more accurate results. 

“Oh, Mr. Jameson, it was just a quick suggestion. It just takes the vel-“

“I don’t wanna hear your mumbo-jumbo about it! I want to know why you thought you had the authority to tell him that!”

“It’s the same equation just with some of the fancy stuff taken out. I didn’t think he’d actually use it. Plus, I’ve passed all of my tests and I already graduated, sir. I thought- “

“You thought?” Mr. Jameson said incredulously with a face of mock surprise. “Do you even really think about your actions?”

“Let me tell you something, Peter. My employees are hired through a rigorous interviewing and screening process. Chemists, biologists – even the damn janitor! Everyone here knows exactly what they’re doing here. I brought you into my company because I’ve seen your grades, I’ve seen your projects, everything! I expected a lot from you, but what I got instead was a kid who thinks he knows better than a physicist about whatever that report is about!”

Peter swallowed back a retort about how he’d had to correct said physicists’ work when Peter himself only had two courses of physics under his belt. 

Mr. Jameson leaned back in his chair, “I’m giving you one more chance and then that’s it.” Peter balked as he stood from his chair. 

“Sit down, Parker.” Peter sat. “I’ve seen your potential and I don’t want you wasting it on running coffee. Don’t make me have to kick you out of here.”

Peter nodded his head as fast as he could, almost giving himself vertigo, “Yes, sir. I’ll fix my mistakes, I promise.”

Mr. Jameson nodded and waved his hands in signal for Peter to go, “Get out of my office.” 

Peter booked it out of the office at those words. “And maybe a shower! You smell like stuff my wife’s cat brings in from the trash!”

Later that evening, Peter clocks out of his shift with enough time to bike down to his favorite Vietnamese place for lunch. It puts a little bit of pep in him as he heads towards the bike rack to collect his. Except, it’s not there.

Peter looks up to the sky and mouths ‘thank you’. He walks over and looks at his bike lock that’s hanging on the holder, swinging in the breeze. No bike means walking almost ten miles for Peter. 

He gets to the library as his watch beeps to let him know its two o’clock. Forty minutes late for his shift. The door chimes as Peter pushes through and walks behind the counter. Sam, his supervisor, is standing there with a hint of accusation in his eyes.

“You know, if you would’ve taken the subway like I suggested in the text you never read, you’d be on time, Peter,” Sam joked as he watched Peter frantically boot up the old computer to clock in. 

“I know, I know, but I need the extra money for laundry this week. We’re all not privileged with our own washer and dryer.” Peter chuckled and shook his head as he typed in his credentials into the system and let out a sigh. “Do you still have coffee in the pot? I’m dead on my feet; I think the flies are already starting to gather around me.”

Sam motioned with his head toward the direction of the break room, “When do I never have any coffee? I’m sure you supply the entire industry.”

“Glad I’m giving someone business, at least,” Peter snorted and grabbed a mug from the cabinet above the sink as he entered the breakroom.

The library that Peter worked at had its ups and downs. He’d found the flier for the position as a clerk for the place when he was moping around town a couple weeks after MJ had left. Peter had cleaned up all the grime on his skin for the interview and got a haircut. It had been the freshest he had smelt in a while. He’d gotten the position and basically the rest is history.

He loved his job; all he had to do was quietly work on his homework and check out books for little old ladies who wanted to pick up a new hobby. It was better than busting his butt at a restaurant job or putting on fake personas for a sales job. Peter was comfortable sitting behind a counter and pretending he was hidden from his past troubles. A chuckle escaped Peter’s lips at that. How edgy, he thought.

The day turned out not to be so busy. It was a slow Tuesday for the library and most of the patrons were sat comfortably in their nooks, noses in books and research. No one paid any mind to Peter and certainly had no care that he was currently on his third cup of coffee. 

Just as Peter lifted his coffee mug to his lips, pausing from reading his book over the theory of quantum physics and time travel, a voice startled him from his bubble world.

“Quantum physics? What’s a cute guy like you got to do with that kind of stuff?”

Peter jumped out of his skin, coffee going up his nose and spilling out of his mug and onto the shirt he’d been wearing under his sweater vest that morning. It ran all over the desk and Peter threw down his mug to pick up his book before it got coffee stains all over the pages. He choked for air to get past the caffeinated drink in his airways. 

The man standing in front of him cursed and let out a laugh as he rushed to pat Peter’s back to help him cough out the coffee. “Woah, there! Please don’t die before I can even ask your name,” the man chuckled.

Peter cleared his throat as he finally took a clear breath. The back of his throat burned, and he had to wipe his eyes to get the tears that had streaked his face from exertion. “I’m fine,” he shrugged the man off. “I’m fine!”

The man held his hands up and backed away. 

“What can I help you with?” Peter straightened out his shirt in an attempt to give himself some dignity, trying not to let out a noticeable shiver from the feeling of coffee on his skin.

“I just needed to check out a book,” the man gave him a very obvious once over and smirked, his tinted sunglasses barely doing anything to hide the interest in his eyes. “And maybe to get a better view of your pretty face.”

Peter rolled his eyes and turned to his computer, holding his hand out for the book. “Sure. Like I have any interest in men that can’t keep it in their pants. This is a library, sir, and unfortunately, the workers are not for the public pleasure.” Peter scanned the book and made a point to set it on the counter with a loud thud, causing people to look over if they hadn’t already from Peter’s earlier choking.

“Alright, well that was a nice chat,” the man cleared his throat and took his book. As his hands touched the counter, Peter could see a piece of paper slide over his way. He looked back up as the man took his leave, “Gimme a call, maybe?”

Peter scoffed at the man and looked down at the paper. Above the scribbled phone number, the name ‘Tony’ was written. He’d have to remember never to date any guy named Tony, lest he throw up in repulsion at the remembrance of this man. 

Peter swiped the piece of paper into the trashcan and stood up to throw his mug into the sink in the breakroom and get towels to clean up the spilled coffee. As he passed by Sam, he got weird looks from the couple he was helping at the computers. “Hey, Peter,” Sam called after him, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s coffee all over your shirt!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Sorry if I have any screw ups in my writing; its hard getting back into the groove with writing but I have good plans for whats to come next! Comments feed the author!


	3. That One Time When Peter Almost Threw Up Because of Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's back! And it's not for the same reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Early posting today since I don't have class! I'm so happy you guys are enjoying my story. Unfortunately, this chapter is a little shorter than the last one, but the next one is pretty long and maybe, just maybe if I get enough of you guys asking me for it, I might post it early. Anyways, comments and kudos feed the author! See you guys in the next chapter!

The amount of times Peter’s fallen asleep is embarrassing. He’d been up the night before studying for the entrance exam he was required to take for his application to ChemEd as an actual employee and not an errand-running intern. His shift for the library had began at 9 in the morning but Peter hadn’t slept more than three hours.

His professors had told him a long time ago that cramming until the early hours of the morning was a bad habit to create, but for Peter, it was a way to grill it into his memory until he was reciting formulas in his sleep. He had wanted this job since he was little and after all his hard work, it was within reach. 

“Excuse me, do you know where the adult fantasy books are?”

Peter blinked sluggishly as he looked away from his computer screen. His brain took a minute to process what was asked of him. “Oh, sorry,” Peter shook his head to get rid of the fog in his brain. “Yeah, it’s near the back door, right after the historical fiction bookcase.”

The customer shot him a strained smile and trotted off. Peter swallowed the extra spit in his mouth and decided to get up and walk around to wake himself up. He was allowed a couple minutes to move around when the amount of people in his section allowed it so. 

He was browsing a shelf, trying to reorganize the jumbled authors names since some people don’t understand how important it is to keep everything organized for the workers, when someone cleared their throat behind him. Peter jumped slightly and winced when he knocked his head on the shelf as he turned around. 

“Wow, I think I’m bad luck to you.”

Peter held back a groan as he turned to face Tony, “I’m starting to think so, too. Can I help you, sir?”

Tony smiled to himself a little bit and pulled a hand out of one of his suit pockets, holding it out to Peter, “Anthony Stark, well, I actually like to be called Tony, but whichever is fine.”

Peter looked at his hand for a moment before glancing back up at Tony’s face, “Is this a trick?”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up and he barked out a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth as Peter quickly signaled for him to be quiet. “Sorry, sorry, no. I, uh, just felt really guilty for acting like that towards you. It’s been a minute since I’ve seen someone I’m interested in.”

Peter almost let out a scoff but instead schooled his features and straightened his back. “Well, that’s sweet, but I’m not an object for you to rut on.”

Tony smiled slightly at him, “I didn’t peg you for that kind of person. Like I said, I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

Peter nodded and went back to looking at the shelf, “Well, I guess I can accept your apology.”

Tony turned toward the books as well, pretending to think about the selection, “So, tell me about yourself.”

Peter shrugged and moved a Lawrence book in front of a Lee book, “Not much to me, actually. I just work here and maybe that’s all you need to know.”

“Oh, come on, give me a little bit of details.” Tony skimmed a page from a book about animal classifications. He shut the book with a soft pop of the book pages hitting together. “Here, I’ll go first.” 

Tony scratched his beard and Peter would never admit that he glanced over to catch a look at the finely detailed lines of the man’s goatee. “I’m a shareholder of the biggest technology and weapons manufacturing company in America.”

Peter felt the corner of his lip turn up at that comment, “Wow, do you rehearse that one in the mirror every morning?” 

Tony chuckled and put the book he’d been holding back onto the shelf, “You gotta be prepared, Peter.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Name tag, dear.”

Peter slapped a hand over his chest, feeling the smooth texture of his plastic nametag, “That’s classified information. I’m going to have to wipe your memory now, Mr. Stark.”

Tony laughed and picked another book up off of the shelf, “Oh please, if anyone could figure of memory erasure tactics, it’d be me, Caro.”

Peter chuckled, “Let me know how that comes along then, I’ll be first in line.”

Tony looked over at Peter and admired the younger man’s side profile. He wished he could reach out and touch the small tufts of hair that swirled around his ear or at least, feel the baby smooth skin of his cheek. 

Peter looked back up at him with a confused stare. 

“Hey, are you free for lunch, maybe? I know this nice diner over on 5th street that has some of the best burgers in New York.”

Peter seemed to get paler and quickly turned his head away. “I-I think I have some paperwork I have to do over lunch.” He tried to chase away the fear in his chest and swallowed back the lump in his throat. In his back pocket, his phone seemed to heat up; MJ’s message searing into his skin. “I have to say no, Tony.”

Tony nodded, “No, it’s okay. Did I scare you?”

“What? No,” Peter laughed breathlessly. “No, no I was just thinking about, uh,” He glanced over Tony’s shoulder and pretended to catch his attention on something. “Sorry, someone needs me.” 

Peter raced away from the man and into the breakroom, bracing himself against the sink, feeling queasy. He took a few deep breaths to soothe himself and looked over at the lunch table as he heard someone munch on chips. Quill - or really Peter Quill but it was just too weird having two Peters – was sitting at the far end, watching Peter with a deer in headlights look.


	4. Bonding Over Dead Parents and Money Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's excited about his interview and shops with Tony for clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! This one's up a little late but I hope you guys like it! I might edit it again as I'm not too happy with how it turned out but we'll see! Anyways, enjoy! See you guys on Tuesday! Comments and kudos feed the author!

“So, I’m thinking about coming back into the States to visit for a while, are you free anytime next month?”

Peter was on a Skype call with Ned as he rearranged his room, liking the static company as he did his neurotic organizing. “I think I’ve got a couple days off from the library in the evenings, but if I get the job at ChemEd, I don’t know what my free time’s gonna look like.”

“Have you heard anything back from them? You took your test back in August, right? It almost the end of September now.” Ned shifted slightly out of camera view; his eyes were trained on a video game he was playing while he talked to Peter. 

“No,” Peter grunted as he pushed a tack into his wall, securing his poster of the old English map of the world. “They said to give it a month or two for a decision and Jameson is not getting off my back at making everything perfect in his office. I think he knows I’m leaving soon and just wants to squeeze out every drop of my patience while he can.” He jumped off his desk and took a step back from the wall to make sure his poster was aligned right. 

Ned made a noise as he lost his game and looked over into the camera. “If I was you, I’d take his whole office and move it all slightly to the right. He’ll get so tripped up,” Ned cackled to himself and Peter shook his head with a soft laugh.

In the corner of his room, stacked on top of his picture frames filled with his family and friends’ smiling faces, Peter’s phone lit up and his Galaga themed ringtone filled the room. Peter ran a hand through his hair that was finally going limp despite the amount of hair gel he’d used that morning and walked to pick up his phone.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, is this Mr. Peter Parker?”

Peter jumped up from leaning on his window edge and tried not to let the cough of surprise out. “Yes, this is him.”

The woman on the other line shuffled some papers on her side of the telephone, “I was calling to let you know that a decision has been reached and the Board would love to schedule an appointment for you to interview with them at your earliest convenience.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Peter almost slapped a hand over his mouth at his exuberance. “I can interview at any of the closest dates you have available.”

“Alright, how does October 17th sound?”

Peter excitedly nodded his head, eyes locked with Ned’s through the computer screen, “I can definitely make that work.”

“We’ll see you at 9:35 on October 17th then, Mr. Parker. Have a great rest of your evening.”

“You, as well. Thank you again.” Peter hung up and dropped his phone, throwing his hands in the air. “Ned! I got it! I got it!”

Ned laughed and gave him a double thumbs up, turning on his light so Peter could see him better, “I told you, dude! They’d be basically filing for bankruptcy without you!”

Peter laughed, “I gotta call May! Oh my god, I’m gonna-“ Peter squealed and fell back on his messy bed. “Ned, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Mm, isn’t your rent due next week? I don’t think heaven charges you for a place to live.”

Peter waved at him dramatically, “God’s gotta pay bills, too.”

Peter scrolled through the list of shops May had sent for him to find clothes for his interview. Everywhere was kind of pricey but he supposed that that came with the prospect of “grown up” job.

“Geez, May, don’t you know I have bills to pay,” Peter whispered to himself as he walked into the next shop and pocketed his phone.

His eyes darted around at the businessmen that trotted around the store, looking like those fancy horses that people showcase. Peter sunk back into his stretched-out sweater and tried to walk a little faster. The world seemed to swallow him whole as he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Peter Parker? Is that really you?”

The voice had a hint of laughter to it as Eugene Thompson approached him with a glint in his eyes that Peter was all too familiar with. The man clapped a hand onto Peter’s shoulder and held him in place with an iron tight grip. “How have you been, man? I haven’t seen you since we ran into you and MJ at Midtown to get our diplomas!” 

Peter felt like a bug under a microscope with the way Eugene looked over his face. He suddenly couldn’t remember if he brushed his teeth that morning. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been okay. How are you, Flash?”

Eugene grinned wider than the Cheshire cat, “I’ve actually just gotten back home. I was on a company retreat to Venice.”

Peter nodded and tried to look around the store for a way out of the uncomfortable conversation as Flash went on about his retreat and how Peter looked. 

“How’s MJ, by the way? You guys still together?”

Peter froze and stared at Eugene; the question stuck in his head on replay like a scratched DVD. “I, well, uhm, you see, we br-“

“Pete!” Big hands wrapped around his waist in a form of a backwards hug and Peter snapped his head over his shoulder to look straight into the depths of Tony’s own. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

Tony’s eyes locked onto Eugene and flashed dangerously. “Who’s your friend?”

Peter chuckled nervously and Eugene quickly backtracked, his hand falling back to his side. “Mr. Stark, sir! It’s such an honor to meet you. I’ve studied all your work on Colliders!”

Tony nodded his head, “Its nice to meet you, but Mr. Parker and I were here just to enjoy some free time together. So, if you don’t mind?”

Eugene nodded and ran off without a moment’s hesitation. As he rounded the corner, Tony gently let go of Peter, his hand sliding over the expanse of Peter’s stomach. “Was he insulting you or anything? I have connections, you know. He’d be ruined by five o’clock this evening.”

Peter sputtered and turned to face Tony, “That’s really not necessary, Tony! He’s just an old friend from high school. Plus, I think he has a kid on the way.”

Tony rolled his eyes and looked down at Peter, his eyes softening. “So, what are you doing in a place like this? Not that its not for you! You could wear nothing and still look great!”

“What?”

Tony straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

Peter gave him a confused glare and started walking towards the collared shirts, bargaining with himself to talk and shop. With Tony next to him, he didn’t feel like so much of a stranger. “I’ve got an interview on the 17th and my aunt sent me some stuff to look at.”

“Ooh, so shopping,” Tony smirked and started looking through the shirts with him. “What are you interviewing for?”

“Well, if you must know, I’ve worked as an intern at ChemEd and one of the chemists got booted recently. I just happened to have graduated around that time and I decided to take my chance.”

Tony smiled at him, “You’re a shoe-in. I actually read some of your academic papers. I have pull at MIT and they let me see some of your work.”

Peter felt his face go hot, “You did not.”

“Oh, yes, I did, Petey.” Tony sang as he held a shirt to Peter’s chest. “Go try that on. Blue looks like it’s your color.”

Peter snatched the clothing item from Tony and sneered, “Don’t read my work. Its private.”

“That’s what diaries are for, dear!” Tony yelled after him, chuckling. 

Peter stepped out a moment later in the shirt, blushing as he realized that Tony was sat outside with a mountain of clothes in his lap. “I think you’re right about the blue.”

Tony obviously took his time checking Peter out, his tongue darting out between his lips to get them moist again. “What can I say? I’m a man of good taste.

“Here, try these on. I’ll be right here.”

Peter took the clothes from Tony and hung them on the rack before shutting the door. “Do your mom and dad live out of state or something? I noticed you mentioned your aunt, but I didn’t hear anything about a proud mom or a celebratory beer with your dad.”

Peter pulled a pair of slacks onto his legs, jumping around to help his balance, “My parents actually passed away when I was four. They were in a plane crash and my aunt and uncle raised me.”

Tony audible shuffled in his seat and a pause of silence hung in the air. The topic of parents never really bothered Peter. He could hardly remember his mom and dad; he’d been so little when it happened that sometimes he forgot that Aunt May was really Aunt May. “It’s okay to ask, alright? No need to get all weird about it.”

Tony let out a breathless laugh, “No, its not that. I just – I know the feeling. My parents are gone, too.” 

Peter opened the door and looked at Tony, unable to ignore the small amount of red around his usually impassive eyes. “Car crash. It’s been a couple years so its still a soft spot, but I know what its like to be pitied over it,” Tony sniffed, putting on his sunglasses. “I like the shirt; pants, mm, not so much.”

“How old were you?” Peter asked as he shut the door again and pulled the slacks off, folding them back and stacking them in a corner. 

“Twenty-one,” Tony answered. “I’m getting better every year. Last year was pretty hard for me in a lot of ways, but I’m doing better.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Peter rolled his eyes when the pants were too long for him to even cuff the bottoms.

“Me too.” Tony clapped his hands together. “But, what can you do? Life goes on.”

Peter was sure Tony meant it in a light-hearted ‘I’m totally okay’ kind of way, but Peter could hear the grief behind it. “Life goes on,” he repeated.

After sometime bickering about the need for multiple suits and ties with every type of basic pattern Peter had learned in art appreciation class, the two finally made their way to the cashier, laughing about the way Peter’s hair was stuck in every direction since he had pulled off multiple ties that evening.

“If I have to tie another Windsor knot today, I’m going to lose it,” Tony teased Peter.

“Its not my fault my uncle never knew how to wear a tie!” Peter held a hand to his mouth after his outburst and giggled behind it. He smoothed out his hair and looked up at Tony.

“It’s a travesty, Mr. Parker. Looks like I have no choice but to move in and tie your ties every morning before you go to work.”

Peter laughed again and tried not to imagine that scenario. “Oh boy, now someone can actually pay my rent.”

Peter laid the clothes onto the table for the cashier to ring up, smiling as he watched the price pop up. In retrospect, he should’ve known to be careful with the amount he was spending, but the time had flown with Tony once the awkwardness of the dead parents topic had worn off. As the numbers climbed, the smile dropped off of Peter’s face and in the corner of his eye, he could see Tony watching him. His palms were sweaty as the cashier pulled out the final few items and told him a number that had Peter seeing stars.

He looked over at Tony and vaguely registered him asking what was wrong. His eyes watered a little as he looked back at the line forming behind him. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I don’t have enough.”

The cashier gave him a disgusted look and started typing on her computer. Peter felt tears start welling up in his eyes and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Glancing over at Tony, being quick so the other man couldn’t see his tears, he whispered, “I have to go. I – I need to get out of here.”

Peter made a quick dash for the doors and speedily walked away from the shopping district. He could hear footsteps following him but was too much of a coward to turn around and face Tony. It wasn’t until he reached the front steps of his apartment that he finally slowed to a stop and let himself catch his breath. A small whimper escaped his lips and somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter scolded himself for being so sensitive over money.

“Hey,” Tony gently took Peter’s shoulders and rubbed his arms, keeping him at a distance so as to not smother him. “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

Peter could feel that dam of emotions swell dangerously inside him and tried to jerk away from Tony’s warm hands. “I have to go now, Tony.”

“I know. Let me at least get you to your unit. I just want you to be safe.”

At any other time, Peter would’ve argued about how he had been living on his own for almost four years and he could take care of himself, but, at that moment, with Tony’s arms enveloping him in a hug, Peter couldn’t find it in him to say no. It reminded him of when he used to come home to MJ watching some new indie film in the living room. Reminded him of sinking to the couch and laying his head on her stomach as she ran her fingers his hair.

Peter barely registered the feeling of walking up the steps and into the elevator. It reminded him of MJ but also didn’t. It was all so brand new; this thing with Tony. Like a piece of gravity was pulling Peter towards Tony. The man always seemed to be near lately and Peter couldn’t think of a single reason to be afraid about that. Unless, he was, like, a closet serial killer or something. But Peter was just beginning to know this man and the more he learned about him, the more he could see behind the façade that Tony put on. 

He was brought out of his thoughts but Tony giving him a little shake, “Huh? Sorry, dozed off.”

“I was asking what floor.”

“Oh.” Peter pressed the button and let himself fall against Tony. Tony hesitated for a second before reaching his hand up and running his finger through the curls on the side of Peter’s head. Peter felt a warmth in his chest spark and basked in it for a moment before the elevator opened Tony ushered him back out into the hallways. 

The smell of Wade’s shitty cooking filled his nostrils and he groaned. 

“Smells like a bar,” Tony commented.

“Its just Wade Wilson over in 34B. He thinks everything tastes better doused in vodka and cheap beer.” Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys.

“Well, this is where we part ways,” Tony sighed, his hands dropping from Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter responded lamely, rocking on his toes.

“Maybe I could ask about taking you out again?”

Peter felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. He turned a put his keys into the lock, opening it and pushing his door open. 

“I might just have to take you up in that offer one day, Tony Stark.”

Peter shut the door before Tony could respond, leaning against it.

“Oh my god, it was so embarrassing!” 

Peter’s cooking the last bit of pasta that was in his pantry, winging it as he cooked, when his doorbell sounds. Ned’s laugh sounds from the computer speakers.

“I bet, dude. You were surrounded by the snobbiest people,” Ned continued as Peter went to the door to answer it.

When he opened the door, no one greeted him except for a decent sized box with a small letter attached to it. He pulled it inside and shut the door, pulling of the letter as he walked over to his laptop to turn Ned around to see the box.  
Peter opened the letter.

Hey,  
Like I said, blue is a good color on you. Sorry I didn’t get to offer to pay for them earlier. Don’t let frivolous things like money make you upset. Your smile is one of a kind. Good luck on your interview. You’re going to nail it. I know it.  
-Tony

Peter bit his lip and hugged the letter to his chest. He pulled over the box and inside was every item of clothing he’d been unable to buy along with a few extras. From the counter, Ned made a joke about Peter having a sugar daddy. But all Peter could hear was Tony telling him his smile was one of a kind.


	5. Caramel Macchaito and Black Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony have a lunch date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hello! Sorry a million times. I missed posting on Tuesday because I fell asleep so I'm a little behind But! I should be on schedule from now on. Do you guys want me to post Chapter 6 tomorrow to make up for Tuesday? Let me know! Kudos and Comments feed the author!

Tony couldn’t get Peter off his mind. He’d spent weeks with him just evading the library every time he passed it on the way to his favorite coffee shop, trying not to seem too desperate to the other man.

“Yo, Tony!”

His head shot up from the desk where he’d laid down. Rhodey was leaning in his doorway, his arms crossed across his chest. A smile broke out on his face as Tony scrambled to try to look like he’d been busy. 

“Hey, platypus. I, uh, I was just…I was trying to get some o- “ 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhodey flapped his hand haphazardly as he lazily moved across the room as sat in the chair in front of Tony’s desk. “Drooling over that librarian again. Ever since you started that project and actually went out in public, you’ve been all happy again.”

Tony groaned, “I know. It’s as if I’m not a hermit.” He rolled his eyes and pretended to scroll through e-mails.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, man. You haven’t been all,” he waved in Tony’s direction, “smiley and woozy for someone since…you know.”

Tony finally looked away from his computer and finally made eye contact with Rhodey, “Uhm, yeah. It’s been nice.” He thought he felt his face blaze with heat of a blush and turned quickly around to the windows, standing and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Are you seeing him again anytime soon?”

“I think he had an interview last week and I want to go ask how it went, but do you think I’m being too desperate? I mean, I bought those clothes for him without his permission and every time I asked him out for lunch, he got all pale. Oh, god. What if he thinks I’m too old?”

Rhodey laughed behind him, standing and walking over to clap a hand on his shoulder, “I think you’re out of your game, Tony Stark. The man who used to have ten women and men on speed dial.”

Tony shook his head, “It’s not like that.”

“I know. I think, if you really like this guy, give it your all.”

Tony looked over at Rhodey and smiled, “I have been.”

Peter was having a pretty relaxing day. Well, if you could account for the nerves crackling in his stomach. He’d interviewed with the ChemEd Board the week before and everyday that he hadn’t gotten a call back had made his anxiety skyrocket. 

He was at the time rearranging his desk for maybe the fifteenth time that day when the door opened. He’d been assigned as receptionist since Sam had left for a doctors’ appointment. It wasn’t too hard, but it also came with nothing else to do but read a book or draw on the little notepad that was supposed to be for taking notes on phone calls.

The door had opened and in came Tony, completely bypassing the receptionist desk, making a beeline for Peter’s usual spot. He made it to the little corner desk and seemed surprised that no one was sat there.

“I think you’re looking for me,” Peter poked his head out from behind the computer, smiling as Tony’s head snapped in his direction.

“Hey,” Tony smiled as he leaned against Peter’s desk.

“Hey,” Peter smiled back.

They stared at each other for a moment before Tony cleared his throat and ducked his head, a slight dusting of pink coating his cheeks. He ran a hand over his beard, scratching it a little, “So, uhm, how did your interview go?”

“Oh! Great!” Peter felt his leg start shaking anxiously underneath the desk, his nerves front and center again. “I think I have it in the bag.”

Tony’s eyes softened and he relaxed his posture, looking Peter in the eyes, “I’m sure you did amazing.” 

Peter dropped his gaze and let out a breathless laugh, his stomach doing flips that for the first time weren’t caused by his anxieties. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony bit his lip, “Hey, are you free, like, anytime soon?”

Peter felt the initial surge of fear rise in his chest. He hadn’t seen Tony since his freak out at the clothing store. Oh god, he’d made such an idiot of himself. He swallowed back the bile that was starting to coat the back of his throat.

“Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Tony straightened back up, smoothing down his tie.

“No! Wait!” Peter blushed darkly and coughed to calm down. “I-I have a lunch break at 12 but I can move it up a little. Why? What did you have in mind?”

Tony seemed to brighten up, a wide smile cracking, “I was thinking that maybe we could have coffee together. I’d like to get to know you a little better.”

Peter felt like his nerves were all vibrating at once; it was a scary but exciting feeling all in one. “I’d like that.” 

Tony resisted the bounce in his step as he took a couple steps toward the door, “I’ll meet you at the Tea Cup over on third street. It’s a couple blocks down; you can’t miss it!”

Peter nodded, laughing as Tony bumped into the door frame, “I’ll see you then.”

Tony sat outside of the Tea Cup, his sunglasses on as he watched people walk back and forth. He tried to remember a time when he could feel so casual in public without bumping into someone he really really didn’t want to. It was nice to enjoy some of the last bits of sunshine before the frigidness of winter would block out any of the sun’s heat.

He had changed out of his suit after seeing Peter, wanting to show him his personality outside of the tailored suits and fancy shoes. Tony sat in his favorite MIT hoodie and jeans, bunched around an old pair of sneakers that Tony used when he was in his lab. He was lax in the seat, a cup of coffee warming up his hands. 

“Well, I didn’t know you knew what casual clothing was,” Peter teased as he walked up to Tony, his cheeks a rosy color from the nip in the air. Tony was a little more used to the cold air.

Tony chuckled and stood up, opening the door for Peter and following him inside, “That’s where you were wrong, you little genius. I can wear just about anything.”

“Anything?” Peter asked incredulously, shrugging off his coat as they sat at a booth near the counter. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“Flirting, are we? Someone’s finally opening up to me.”

“You kinda have to when the cute guy keeps showing up where you are at all times.” Peter rubbed his hands together to warm them up, the pink in his cheeks finally starting to fade. “What do you recommend here? I’m not too big on coffee if it’s not to wake me up, so put me on something.”

Tony leaned up back in the seat, throwing his arm up on the top of the booth’s seat, “Let’s see. I think you like sweet things, but … that could just be a front. Maybe you like more bitter things.” Tony raised an eyebrow and barked out a laugh at Peter’s expression. “Stop thinking dirty, I’m talking solely about coffee. Sex is more of a fifth date kind of thing.”

Peter rolled his eyes and ignored the sex comment, “The sweet thing is right. I don’t have the stomach for black coffee.”

Tony nodded and headed to the counter to talk to the barista. He stole glances at Peter from his spot in line. He could feel warmth running from his head to the tips of his toes. Not from the heating in the café, but from the thought of Peter finally giving him the opportunity to take him on a lunch date.

Was it a date? Tony hoped so. He’d been dreaming of taking Peter somewhere nice and giving him the fancy dinner he deserved, He wanted their first date to be something the other man had dreamed of. Stuff he’d seen in movies. Anything for Peter to grin at him, so bright that the sun envied his shine. Peter glanced back at him from their table and gave Tony a little smile before going back to scrolling through his phone. 

Tony smiled back and shook his head.

“Sir, are you gonna order anything?” The barista looked at him with a hint of annoyance as he snapped back into reality. 

“Oh, sorry! Yes, a caramel macchiato, a black coffee with triple espresso and two sugar cookies, please,” Tony glance at the barista’s name tag, “and thank you, Wanda.”

Wanda nodded from her spot behind the counter and gave him his total, “Here’s your number, it’ll arrive it a couple minutes.” 

Tony smiled at her and slunk back into his seat across from Peter.

“Tell me about yourself, Peter. Anything, everything. I wanna know the fun facts and the deepest thoughts in that genius brain of yours.”

Peter chuckled, “I’m not a genius, that’s for sure. I’m just a man with a degree.”

“I have seven,” Tony said without too much enthusiasm.

Peter looked at him what wide eyes. “What? You call me a genius? With seven degrees? What even is that in years? How old are you? Are you a vampire?”

Tony bent over with the force of his laugh at Peter’s outburst, “No. I’m not a vampire. My dad just really valued smarts.”

Peter nodded, folding his legs in the seat as he locked his attention on Tony, his phone forgotten on the corner of the table. 

“Ah, he was in the military, sort of. He ran with the intelligence folks during World War II. I think you might’ve studied about him. Howard Stark, inventor of the Arc Reactor and whatever else.

I always had to live under his expectations. It was always ‘Tony, why are you making a 90 in English? Raise it to a 100 or I’ll knock you into next week, young man.’ But, my mom,” Tony takes a moment to think back at the image of his mother. “She was great, even though she had her flaws. I loved her unlike anything else. She used to make me hot chocolate with cinnamon – I know, kinda gross – but, the way she made it. It was like a hug.”

Peter smiled softly, “She sounds like a good woman.”

“Oh, she was. Sometimes I wonder how she ended up with my dad.”

Wanda walked up to the table, “Peter! How are you?”

Peter jumped in his seat a little and looked up to Wanda, “Hi!” He shot an apologetic glance to Tony. “I’m good, thanks for asking.”

She set their cups down along with the cookies, “It’s kind of busy in here, but I’m coming over to Pietro’s later on today. Come see us, I’m making that lasagna that you liked a whole lot.”

“You know the way to my heart. I’ll be there.” Peter smiled at her as she took her leave. 

Tony gently scooted his drink over to him, “Try it. Let me know what you think about it.”

Peter took a sip and sighed, “I like it, really.”

Tony smiled and tipped back his coffee, “Good. Now I know what to bring you when I visit.”

Peter raised his coffee cup to him like toasting a wine glass, smiling when Tony bumped his own against Peter’s in cheers.

“This might be a weird question, but how did you get over your parents passing?”

Tony took a deep breath, taking off his sunglasses, “Not very well. It’s probably not the most flattering thing to admit but I was a major alcoholic for a while after they died. It was easier, you know, to just forget that they weren’t coming home for Christmas or that my godfather was moving out all of their stuff to move his own in.”

Peter gently laid his hand on Tony’s and rubbed the back of his hand. Usually, Tony would recoil at the smallest semblance of pity, but what Peter was offering was genuine comfort. It felt good to have someone really see how he was feeling past the wall of impassiveness he usually showed. 

“But it started hurting someone I really cared about, so I got help. I learned to tone it down and went to therapy to figure out my emotions and deal with my parents being gone. Its been getting a little easier since then. A little less guilt every year that passes and,” Tony took a deep breath to stable himself, “I just keep moving on, ‘cause that’s what’s best for me.”

Peter nodded and squeezed Tony’s hand before letting go and picking up one of the sugar cookies, “I’m proud of you. It probably took a lot of strength to admit that you had a problem.”

Tony nodded, taking another drink of his coffee, “I was a mess, but I’m better now.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching people walk past their table and leave. Peter had always found comfort in sitting in the background, watching other people carry on and wondering what their life was like beyond the two seconds Peter was able to watch. He thought about Tony and how he’d come from some annoying customer to maybe being the first person to break the fear he had since MJ had crushed him.

“I have to tell you something,” Tony finally spoke up. “It’s just…” he took a second to think. “I can’t get you out of my thoughts. You’re like glue to everything. I see you and I can’t help but want to know you and watch you grow.”

Peter felt fear rise in his chest like the ugly beast it was. He fought to keep his breathing even and forced a small, shy smile. “That’s really flattering, Tony. I’m happy you think of me that way, but I can’t find it in me to return the same feelings.” He was lying through his teeth.

“I can tell you’re lying.”

“I’ve never been good at it,” Peter smirked to himself. “I really like you, but it’s my past.” He took another sip of his drink to wet his throat that felt drier than the desert. “Look, I used to be okay with it all. I loved to love people. I let myself be vulnerable to anyone who wanted to be in my life. 

And there was this girl. Tony, I was with her for the majority of my adult life. I thought I was gonna marry this girl. And then, one day, she met some guy who shared all of her weird, existential thoughts and it was over. I came home from a trip and her stuff was gone. All of our photos were in the trash.”

Peter laughed darkly, “The worst part is that I led a lot of people on after that. I kind of turned to any comfort I could until I finally had to stop and live my life without her in it.”

He shrugged and chugged the rest of his coffee, blanching at the taste of concentrated syrup at the bottom of the cup. Tony sighed and finished his as well. 

“I get that, Peter. I know its hard to get back to trusting people after that kind of thing. I’m perfectly happy being your friend. I just want to spend time with you.”

Peter smiled, “Well, I’d like to be your friend, too.”

Tony smiled softly and stood, “Alright, I think your break is almost over and I have to get back to my lab before Obadiah has my ass mounted on the mantle.”

“I should probably be worried that you know my schedule, but you don’t give me crazed killer vibes so I’ll put it on the backburner for now.”

Peter had just shoved his phone in his pocket when it buzzed. He pulled it out and had to quickly compose himself. On his screen it read: New Message from Maybe: MJ. Peter regained his calm for Tony as they said their goodbyes.

He rounded the corner quickly and pulled his phone out to check the message.

‘Hey. You didn’t answer my last text, but I really want to talk to you again. Please?’

Peter sighed and put his phone back in his pocket, trudging back to work with a sullen mood.


	6. Laundry Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets advice and makes a new friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next chapter as requested! I hope it doesn't seem a little awkward, I'm off my game today a little. Anyways, enjoy! Kudos and Comments feed the author!

Peter lifted his shirt to his nose and gagged at the smell. He’d had to babysit Mrs. Luna’s baby girl that morning when she had to make an emergency visit to her son’s school. Unfortunately, that was also around the time that the newborn had to be fed, burped and diaper changed. It had all been going fine until she had spit up what Peter had guessed what was half of her bottle at least. Then, she’d blown out of her diaper and onto the front Peter’s shirt. 

Mrs. Luna had apologized profusely but Peter shrugged it off even though he could feel poop seeping onto his skin. He’d ran home and quickly pulled his clothes off and showered, rubbing his skin until it turned red from the force he was using to scrub himself. 

He placed his laundry basket on the floor next to the washer and gave a polite smile to the red-haired lady that walked down the stairs to the basement laundry facility. He stuffed everything inside, trying really hard not to touch the red shirt from that morning. His shoulders sagged a little; it was one of his favorites that Ben had given him. 

“Hey, do you have a little bit of laundry soap to spare? I just realized I’m out.” The red head asked from the washer across from him.

“Yeah, here,” He handed her the soap and pushed his quarters into the slot. As his load started, Peter took a seat in the dusty, old couches in the corner of the room, going through his phone. He’d followed Tony on his social media the evening after their rendezvous and had quickly learned to ignore the business side of him. He’d found him to be really funny and cuter than he’d expected him to be, not that he’d ever tell Tony that. He was still terrified of dating or relationships all the same, but with Tony, it had started to feel like something less of dating and just closeness. It was like MJ but that’s what made it so infinitively scary. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small movement in the wall where he was sat. He put down his phone and looked into the wall where a small yellow spider was weaving its legs into the thin silk of its threads.

“Oh, she’s beautiful,” the red head whispered as she leaned into where Peter was looking. “It’s so hard to believe people are scared of them.”

Peter nodded, “They’re just trying to live their life while us giant humans keep stepping on them.”

“I’m Natasha, by the way.” The red head, Natasha, held her hand out to him with a smirk plastered on the corner of her lips.

“Peter.” He shook her hand and smiled softly.

“I’ve never seen you in the apartment building before, did you just move?”

“No, I haven’t been home much lately. I’ve been doing extra shifts at my job, so I guess I’m only home to sleep.”

Natasha plopped back into the seat next to Peter’s crossing her legs. “I’ve been there before. It gets better, for sure.”

“Oh, thank god, I was thinking I’d have to jump in front of a bus to get a decent paycheck around here.”

“Depends on what kind of insurance you have. Can’t get a good payout if you’re being scammed.”

“Tell me about it!” Peter rolled his eyes. “Had a policy once that only covered head injuries. I didn’t even know! I was in the hospital for a broken ankle and they told me once I had the cast and medicine. I’m still paying that bill as we speak.”

“Try having dental insurance that only pays for one visit a year. My teeth still hate me for it.”

Peter laughed and checked the time on his washing machine. “Well, it looks like we’re gonna be here for a while. I suppose you’re my new best friend.”

Natasha grinned, “I guess so, best friend.”

Peter chuckled and looked at his phone as he got a text from Tony. ‘Sorry you got pooped on! Maybe I can swing by later and bring you junk food for the bad mood you must be in.’

“Who’s the cause of the big smile on your face?”

Peter quickly covered his mouth, “What smile?”

“Does someone have a big crush?”

“No!” Peter shuffled in his seat. “I mean, it’s really complicated.” 

“Complicated how?” Natasha pulled her legs into the seat, latching her fingers together and giving Peter her full attention.

Peter looked down and laughed a little, “Its stupid. Really.” Upon seeing Natasha not lose interest, Peter turned toward her, “There’s this guy. He’s really smart, kinda handsome, and an utter fool. He’s just amazing but cocky.”

Natasha smirked at him. “I don’t see how it’s complicated.”

“Well, I’m not sure what to do. I was in a relationship that ended badly a couple years ago, and the wounds haven’t completely closed yet. I’m scared to put myself back out there like that.” Peter shifted in his seat so he could use both hands to gesture with. “Like, talking to you, who I’ve known for maybe one minute, it’s easy. It’s okay because if you hurt me and betray me, I can just cut that thread really quick.

But with my past relationship, she was in every nook and cranny of my life. She knew my entire family. She was there when my uncle died. Cutting her off meant forgetting everything she was tied to. A big part of my life that I just can’t return to.”

“So you’re scared this guy’s gonna do that to you?” Natasha asked as Peter got up to move his clothes to the dryer when the machine buzzed.

“Something like that.” Peter grunted as he pulled the soaked linens out of the washer and into his basket. “It’s not that I don’t trust him. He walked me back to my apartment and didn’t act like a creep. He’s never given me a reason not to want to be near him.”

Natasha got up and removed her clothes as well, “So what’s scary?”

“Opening up again. Letting someone see the ugly parts of me that I can’t hide.”

Natasha nodded, walking over to Peter and letting her basket drop to floor so she could put her hands on her hips. Peter looked over, “Why is your waist the literal size of my thigh?”

“Good genes,” Natasha chuckled, “Anyway, don’t change the subject.” 

“I’m not!”

“He who lies has to eat his pants,” Natasha sang as she threw her clothes into the dryer. 

Peter huffed, “Okay, I was. And so, what? I don’t want this guy to just have me for a couple months and then dump me for some other pretty little thing.”

He squeaked as Natasha shut her door to the dryer a little too loudly. “Let me tell you something, Peter. Never, ever let the past control what you are doing right now. Trust me, I know firsthand what it’s like to lose someone because of the same fear. 

I liked this guy who had been my best friend since kindergarten. He was funny but stupid. Brave but also reckless. I was madly in love by the time I was in eighth grade. But I was scared. I’d watched everyone around me get into relationships and it never work out for them. I’d never seen people just be in love and stay in love. Hell, I still haven’t today.”

Peter tore his gaze from the spinning clothes to look over at Natasha. She was staring at the ‘Heat’ button in a daze. “He asked me out the day after graduation. He went on this long rant about how he’d liked me since forever and poured his heart out. And..And I just rejected him because I didn’t want a summer romance. I wanted him to want me forever. Like those couples you see who’ve been together for like seventy years.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“Of course, he’s my best friend. Plus, he’s married now. Got two kids and another on the way.”

Peter gently patted Natasha’s back, getting a smile in return. 

“What I’m saying is, give this guy a chance. Maybe your happily ever after is waiting for you right there.”

Peter smiled, feeling a little lighter. “Maybe you’re right.”

A pair of footsteps sounded on the staircase as a strawberry blonde woman descended. Natasha jumped a little and quickly tried to straighten up her appearance. Peter giggled and looked over at her.

“What?” Natasha hissed.

Peter drew a heart in the air with his fingers and jumped away when Natasha moved to smack him. 

That night, Tony got a message from Peter: ‘Hey, are you free anytime soon? Maybe we can go on one of those date things?’


	7. A Quick Departure and Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter have a small falling out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello again! I wrote this chapter after a binge of Ant-Man and Ant-Man and the Wasp so I was on a Marvel kick! Anyways, there's a Spanish song mentioned in here and if you wanna check it out, it's called Como Te Extraño Mi Amor by Leo Dan and its such a pretty little song! Anyways, I hope ya'll enjoy! Kudos and comments feed the author!

“No, I’m serious, crackers and Italian dressing go together pretty well!”

Peter scrunched up his nose, “Yeah, for a psychopath! Is that what you are, Mr. Stark?”

Tony belted out a laugh, crumbling up his cheeseburger wrapper and licking the last bit of flavor from his lips, “Psycho? Absolutely not.”

Peter opened his mouth to quip back to him, but Tony interrupted him, “Narcissist? Oh, definitely!”

Peter smiled and shook his head. He and Tony had been having frequent nights out recently. Tony would wait outside of the library to pick Peter up after his shift and they’d stay out until the early hours of the morning, talking and laughing about whatever nonsense they could come up with. Peter dared to think that maybe he was starting to fall even further for the cocky man. 

“Have you ever had one of those dreams where you have to pee?”

Peter sputtered and snorted a laugh, “A little out of left field, but yes. Everybody has.” 

“Isn’t it so weird how the subconscious does that? Its like it knows way before us on some stuff. It’s fascinating and weird!”

“Okay, Mr. Pee-Pants, I think its time to head home. You’re starting to go on a tangent about pee dreams.”

Tony rolled his eyes and shifted in the driver’s seat to look at Peter, further ignoring the drive-in movie they’d been already ignoring. “Already time to head home?” Tony’s lower lip quivered dramatically, “I was hoping we could go to that bridge over by the harbor and sit down for a little longer.”

Peter chuckled and crossed his legs, “You know I have an early morning tomorrow, Tony. Plus, I gotta get the nerve to call ChemEd again and try to figure out if I have a job or not.”

Tony sighed and straightened back out in his seat, “Why don’t you come work for me? I could use genius thinking like yours in my lab, Parker.”

Peter swallowed back the answer he wanted to give Tony; the answer that the part of him that was crazy for Tony would’ve said. “I would really appreciate that, Tones, but I can’t. I want a job where I’m earning my place. I want to be someone with integrity and determination. I want to know that I got to where I am in my career because of my own hard work, not because the CEO finds me attractive.”

“A little harsh but I get the sentiment.” Tony gently ruffled Peter’s hair, reveling in the back of his mind at how comfortable Peter had become with him.

“You know what I mean. Don’t take it too hard or I think your ego might collapse.”

Tony laughed and straightened up, “Buckle up, Prodigy Boy.” 

Peter smiled and buckled his seat belt as they drove away from the movie. He laid his head back against the head rest and watched the scenery go by. He couldn’t help but be a little worried that maybe he’d hurt Tony’s feelings. Lately, they’d been getting to know each other increasingly well. Peter knew the way Tony was picky about being handed things, how he preferred his coffee black but with a little sugar. 

Tony made a screech of excitement as Bohemian Rhapsody started up on the radio and turned it as high as he could. Peter laughed and began to sing with Tony. No, he hadn’t hurt him. He never could.

It’d been a full two weeks since Peter had heard from Tony. The man had dropped him off at his apartment with the promise to see him soon. Peter scoffed inwardly at the memory. He wouldn’t have minded if Tony had given him a call or any message that he would be away, but his phone had been empty, his e-mail empty, his door had no one but Natasha knocking on it.

Peter stared at his phone, looking at the last message he had from Tony, telling him a corny joke along with a goodnight. He hadn’t thought to text him yet, wanting to think that if Tony really wanted to make contact, he would’ve already. He sighed and shoved it back into his bag. God, he knew it would be just like this. 

“Parker, did you lock the doors? I don’t want another homeless man incident again.”

“I’m on it! Sorry, Sam!”

Peter twisted the locks into place, doing his usual counting routine to make sure he got every one of the multitude of locks. The clouds outside rumbled and flashed dangerously. With the coming of winter, the weather had turned from freezing to absolutely frigid and made worse with the accompanying rain. Peter was glad it hadn’t turned into snow yet; he was still trying to find his favorite snow boots in the storage closet he’d stuffed them in the year before.

“Doors are locked. Today there shall be no hobo hiding under the desks.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Peter, “Worst British accent I’ve ever heard.”

“Like you could do any better.”

Quill trudged out of the break room, “Okay, who touched my Walkman? I had it right at the best part of that Blue Suede song! Come on, guys, have a little respect.” The man stomped his foot and shoved the tape player in his pocket, “By the way, no one tell Scott I dropped his mug. You know the one with his daughter’s picture on it? He gets all crybaby about it.”

Peter shared a look with Sam before going back to stacking chairs on the tables. It was quiet for a moment with the rain beating on the windows. Peter hummed along to the Spanish song Tony had showed him once when they were walking together through a park. 

A knock sounded at the door, bringing everyone out of their concentration. Peter sighed, “I got it.”

He trudged over to the front door, peering out from behind the blinds. A man stood at the porch, trying to hide from the rain under the awning. Peter raised an eyebrow and opened every lock except for the chain, “Hello?”

“Peter!” Tony’s face was illuminated by the light coming from the crack in the door. “Thank god, I tried your apartment, but you weren’t there, and I didn’t know where else and then I remembered the library!”

Peter’s mouth set into a deep frown. He unlatched the door and stepped out. Now, in the bright light of the fully open door, Peter could see a deep gash in Tony’s lip and a blooming bruise underneath his right eye. A gasp escaped him, and Tony winced a little. 

“Is it that bad?”

“Tony, what happened?” Peter yelled as he tilted Tony’s face in his hands to get a better look at the damage.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I just got into an argument is all.”

“With a wall?” Peter huffed and looked back at Sam and Quill staring at him from their spots in the lobby. “Give me a second. Wait here.”

Peter dashed in, running to grab his coat and bag from his desk, “Guys, I’ve gotta go. I did most of my duties, do you mind helping me out? I’ll cover a shift or something.”

Sam grabbed his arm and distracted Peter for a second, but he went right back to logging out of the computer system, “Peter. We need to talk about something. Are you dating Tony Stark?”

“Ah, it’s new. It’s complicated.” Peter pulled his hand away and struggled to put on his coat. “Look, can we talk about this later? I really have to go.”

Sam tried to get in Peter’s way, but the smaller man dodged around him, “Pete, really. I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me tomorrow. You work, right?” Peter shut the front door before Sam could even respond. Tony let out a yelp as Peter grabbed his arm and trudged his way to his apartment block. It took only seconds before Peter was as soaked as Tony was. 

“So, where’d you go?” Peter hissed, holding onto Tony a little harder than necessary. “You dropped me off a lifetime ago, after spending every night with me for a month, and then disappear without a word to me. Then…then you show up out of nowhere looking like you had a round in the ring with a blender!”

Tony cringed behind him. “I’m really, really sorry, Peter. Some old friends ambushed me and took me out of the country for a while. They took my phone away before I could tell you anything.” 

Peter let out a hysterical laugh, “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“It’s true, I promise!” Tony pulled out his phone, not caring about it getting water damage in the pelting rain. “Look!”

Peter stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around, his face a whirlwind of anger and tears in the corners of his eyes. He snatched the phone away from Tony and looked at it. On the screen was a picture of a group of rather rich looking people hovered around a birthday cake with a grumpy Tony in the background. It was very clearly taken in some German pub.

He handed back the phone and took a deep breath, “I believe you. I’m sorry. It’s just...” Peter shook his head. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

Peter and Tony were quiet for the rest of the walk to the apartment. All the way up the stairs and in the elevator, Peter could feel Tony’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t find it in him to look back at the other man.

They shivered together in the hallway as Peter took out his keys and opened the door. He walked in and set his bag down next to the little desk by the doorway. “Wait right here. I’ll get you a towel and I’ll see if I have anything extra laying around in your size.”

Peter rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a towel for Tony. He ran back to the man and helped him wrap it around his body. “Go sit on the couch. Make yourself comfortable.”

Tony shuffled to the couch quietly, looking around at Peter’s apartment. The living room was tiny, separated from the main entryway by a wall with an arching doorway. The couch was leather and obviously a hand-me-down but not a piece of junk. Picture frames were neatly placed on the mantle with photos of what Tony guessed were a younger Peter and his family. In the middle of all the frames were two people Tony had never seen before. A man and a woman smiled at him with their arms wrapped around each other. He could see a resemblance of Peter in both of them.

“Do you like that one?” Peter asked, walking to stand next to him. “They hated traditional photographs, at least that’s what my aunt says. They made every picture awkward so their house wouldn’t ever be boring.”

Tony looked over at Peter with a warm smile. “I think that’s one of the best ideas I’ve ever heard.”

Peter chuckled, “Me too.”

Tony sat on the couch and Peter followed, placing the first aid kit on the coffee table. He pulled out anti-septic and cotton balls, soaking the cotton in the anti-septic and dabbing at the scabbed-over busted lip. Tony winced and Peter sat on one of his legs to keep him in place. 

“Don’t move.”

Tony whimpered quietly and Peter pretended not to notice, “So, are we gonna get to the part where you tell me why you ended up like this?”

“I got into an argument. That’s all.”

“An argument with who?” Peter leaned back so he could look at Tony. 

“My god-father.” Tony sighed and let his head fall back. “Obadiah. My parents left him in charge of the company and their estate until I could complete two years sober.”

Peter’s eyebrows knitted together, “Okay, got that part. What did you guys argue about?”

Tony shook his head, “He was upset about me playing hooky from my meetings. I had a bunch lined up last week, but my friends wouldn’t let me go.”

Peter huffed, “I think you need new friends.”

“They’re not bad people. I was in a bad place for a really long time. They do it every year around this time to cheer me up.”

Peter gently placed a wet cloth over Tony’s bruised eye and slunk off of his leg, taking the place next to him on the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, playing it at a volume where it was barely heard above the patter of rain. 

“Do you need a place to stay while he cools down? Does he do this often?”

Tony shook his head, “Its alright, Peter. I’ll be okay.”

Peter looked over at Tony, his heart squeezing painfully at the sight of Tony’s dark face. He wasn’t too fond of Tony’s sullen moods. He’d seen glimpses of them in the past before Tony would hide it under an award-winning smile.

Maybe it was the idea of seeing Tony smile again. Maybe it was Peter’s relief of seeing Tony at all after so much time apart. Or maybe it was Peter being stupid. 

He reached over and took Tony’s face in his hands. The word ‘what’ barely had time to escape Tony’s lips before Peter silenced him with a soft kiss. Time seemed to stop, and Peter was spinning slightly. His anxieties whispered to him in the background like gossiping strangers, but he ignored him, focusing on the way Tony melted around him. 

They separated after a moment and Peter tried to grasp at the idea of what he’d just done. Tony surged forward again and kissed Peter with more possessiveness, holding him impossibly closer and sighing contently. 

“I missed you the entire time you were gone,” Peter whispered when they separated again, laying his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

Tony stroked Peter’s back, “I’m sorry, Pete. It’ll never happen again.”

Peter balled up Tony’s shirt in his hands and snuggled closer to his warmth, forgetting about how soaked he was and the fear that always reared its head when he got too close to Tony. His eyes drooped and Tony felt like the safest place in the entire world. 

“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Peter yawned, “Go lock my front door first.”

Tony shot up and Peter giggled at the rushed sounds of Tony locking the door and kicking off his shoes. Once he was back, Peter relaxed against him once again, being lulled to sleep by Tony’s fingers running through his curling hair. He couldn’t help but feel like he was exactly where he wanted to be with who he wanted to be with.


	8. Author's Note

Hi guys! Just updating y'all on why there's no chapter today. I had one written out and ready to go but I kept revising it over and over again and couldn't be happy with it. So, I decided to scrap it and start over again. I will post it as soon as I have it done! Thank you for the patience!

**Author's Note:**

> So updates will probably be every Tuesday and Thursday as those are the days I used to have Chemistry class but I dropped it. Can anyone say college is hard? Anyways, hope you enjoyed this small intro! The next one will be up on Thursday


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